Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad.” Lauren greets them with a hug.
“Thank you, dear,” my mom says, hugging her in return.
“Please, everyone, come in. I had the backyard set up for our brunch.” She points the way to the backyard.
“I think you need to see outside before everyone else does,” I say with my teeth clenched, which confuses Lauren because she tilts her head to the side.
“What are you talking about?” she asks me and then the doorbell rings again. Lauren answers it before I do. Big mistake, because the person on the other side of the door makes Lauren catch flies by opening and closing her mouth. Standing there is a guy holding a huge chocolate bouquet.
She gasps in shock when she sees that all of the chocolates are made of penises and the pail holding them is adorned with a huge pink bow. “I have a delivery for Lauren,” he announces, looking at the clipboard in his hand.
“I…” she stutters while he pushes the pail into her hands. “I didn’t order these.” I look down and see that there are both white chocolate and milk chocolate ones, all on white sticks. She shakes her head, while he walks to his truck that is parked in the driveway and comes back with two more pails. “I don’t want this,” she finally says to him, but he’s just a delivery guy, so he just smiles and leaves.
“Oh my God,” I say from beside her. “Don’t freak out.” I look at her, seeing that she is starting to sweat, and her hands are starting to shake. Plus, I can hear her heart beating.
“Why would I freak out?” she asks right when my mother yells from outside. I try to stop her from walking in the back, but she
walks past the caterers, who are still preparing.
When she opens the door to the backyard, her eyes survey the scene as her mouth hangs open at what she sees.
She looks at the white tables she ordered that are all set up with the turquoise tablecloths that were also requested. The little glass vases are holding the white flowers in them just like she ordered in the center of each table. Except there are also bouquets of balloons—all white and turquoise, each one stamped with a penis.
Now, as if that isn’t bad enough, there are also approximately fifty two-foot tall pink, penis-shaped helium balloons. The penis has a smile on the head and a blue bow around the shaft. They are all floating around the yard.
“Oh my God, oh my God!” she cries, looking over to see that there are penis straws in all the glasses. The table in the corner that she had set up for the cake is now filled with cupcakes with little penis cake toppers.
“Dear, what is this?” my mother asks her with a forced smile on her face.
My father is holding a glass of scotch, which he is sipping, mind you, through a penis straw.
“I didn’t order this. They made a mistake.” She looks around, making sure everyone hears her.
One of the servers walks by with the chocolate penises. Of course, my mother grabs one before she even realizes what it is.
“Grammy, why are you eating a chocolate willy?” Rachel asks. “Look, Momma! It’s just like Gabe’s willy!” She grabs a balloon and runs over with it.
I look over at the guests, who are all snickering at this point. “Surprise!” I yell, trying to diffuse whatever fuck up this is. I also make a note to warn whoever did this, because it looks like I’ll be digging a grave tonight. “You guys are in for a treat!”
Mom’s best friend, Sarah, comes up to me. “I love it. It’s very liberating. And fun.” She giggles as she takes a sip of her drink through her own penis straw.
Lauren looks like she is about to have an epic meltdown, and we didn’t even serve the meal yet. We hear a knock on the side gate and in walk, or should I say saunter, two men I have never seen before in my life.
They both look like they just stepped off the pages of a GQ Magazine. One is dressed in blue jeans and a linen button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves. His silver Rolex is on his wrist, and his gold aviator glasses are on his face. A dusting of two days’ worth of stubble gives him an edge.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to crash your party,” he says with a megawatt smile on his face.
The other guy who walked in with him has blond hair, long on top, but seems like he just brushed it back with his hands, so it falls on his forehead a bit. His blue eyes are the color of light blue with a darker blue around. A little scuff is on his chin, but nothing big. He’s dressed in a white button-down shirt that is covered by a navy sweater, the cuffs and tail of the white shirt sneaking out. He has one of those beaded bracelets on one hand and his own black Rolex. His jeans are darker blue color jeans. One of the knees is torn. Tight-fitting, with the cuffs rolled up. White shoes finish off his look. My eyes automatically go to his package, and what a package it is. Nice and full, rounded. You know his dick has to be huge. Either that or he’s stuffing that shit. The way he stands with his head high, shoulders square, it has to be all him. I don’t know who he is, but he is checking out all the penises, his eyes bulging out of his head. He turns and looks at the other guy and covers his mouth with his hand. It is in this moment that I know my sister has been played.